


Curse of the Ancient Tomb

by Andrew (Islehaven)



Category: Original Work
Genre: Action/Adventure, F/M, Fantasy, Light-Hearted
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-12
Updated: 2020-02-12
Packaged: 2021-02-27 07:13:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 862
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22483147
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Islehaven/pseuds/Andrew
Summary: Alyssa is a skilled, fearless, and successful adventurer.  Could she have finally met her match in the ancient sexual magic of the Illusti?





	Curse of the Ancient Tomb

“Wait, wait, wait,” exclaimed Alyssa, “Are you saying this hidden tomb of ancient evil is _here_? Right here in the _middle_ of the Five Kingdoms?”

She stared at her scholar friend Marwell incredulously, waving her hand at his attic office window which looked out at the barren, rocky hills surrounding the small town.

“Granted you’ve found the most remote, empty, gods-forsaken, boring corner of the Five Kingdoms imaginable, but _seriously_? Do you really think that some ancient tomb of magic would go unnoticed for _centuries_? With five kingdom’s worth of adventurers tromping around?”

Looking around at her friend’s tiny room piled high with books, scrolls, maps, and records, she asked, “Are you sure you got, um, the map coordinates right, or whatever?”

“Let me show you something,” said Marwell with a smile.

He rummaged around through his piles and pulled out a parchment. Holding it up for her, Alyssa could see that a word was written boldly across the front in a beautiful curling Elvish script, though she didn’t recognize the particular language. Then he put it down again.

“Tell me what was in the background,” he said.

“The background?” Alyssa asked, puzzled.

Right. You saw the word, what was on the rest of the page?”

“Um, er... nothing?”

He picked up the paper again, and put it down in front of Alyssa. “Cover up the word.”

She did, and nothing happened.

“You missed a spot.” He pointed to a bit of a curly letter peeking out from the side of her hand on the page.

She put down her other hand and covered the word completely. Painted on the rest of the parchment was a drawing of a flowing waterfall.

“Misdirection magic,” Marwell said. “The Lolandar elves were masters. It’s not an illusion, doesn’t show up with detect magic _or_ reveal illusion. It simply causes you to _not look_ at what it’s hiding.”

“Alright...” said Alyssa slowly, “so the misdirection magic has been hiding this tomb for centuries. No one found it because no one _looked_. And the tomb? Resting place of a rich Lolandar ruler?”

“No, before the Lolandar there were the Illusti. Immensely powerful. Ruled the world. Humans, elves, dwarves, everyone were slaves. This was _before_ the time of the ancient legends. The Illusti fought in some cataclysmic battle, some say with dragons, but that may apocryphal. The Illusti won, but it was a Pyrrhic victory. The last remaining Illusti, weakened by battle, was captured by his former slaves, and hidden away by the Lolandar.”

He pulled out a scroll. The lettering was stark, angular, harsh, malevolent.

“What does it say?” asked Alyssa.

“No one today can speak or understand Illusti. However, for this particular writing, the Lolandar had a translation.” He pulled out another parchment, this one covered with the beautiful flowing elvish writing. “And while no one today speaks Lolandar either, I’ve been studying the language from translations of Lolandar works to more recent elvish languages.”

He read aloud, “Herein lies your slavery, the doom of the world, which you can unleash only by your own unsold will.”

Alyssa asked, “Do you think maybe that last bit was supposed to be ‘free will’?”

Marwell looked at her with his scholar’s gaze. “I couldn’t possibly speculate.”

Alyssa rolled her eyes. “So what were the Illusti like?”

Marwell pulled out an old painting from yet another towering stack of papers. The Illusti was humanoid, tall, with blazing eyes. Attending him were three curvaceous human women, clad head to toe in skintight, shiny black armor. White lightning flashed in the background.

“Kinky,” commented Alyssa.

“Indeed. The Desire Armor was said to provide the Illusti’s Queen-Consorts with infallible protection... and also allowed the Illusti to control them. It’s believed that the Illusti gained his power from the sexual pleasure of his consorts.”

“Yeah, seriously kinky.” Alyssa was excited. “Marwell! This is going to be great!”

“Really? You don’t think you might not find it a little, well, boring?”

“No, no, no!” Alyssa waved her hands. “Sure, carving through a horde of monsters in some dungeon is great for boasting at the tavern, but what do you _get_ for it? Nothing more than a pile of gnawed bones, as often as not!

“And _this_ , now this is a quest that requires skill and patience, not brainless brawn.”

Not that there was anything wrong with brainless brawn, sometimes, but of brainless brawn the five kingdoms already had a generous supply.

“And do you realize what the market will pay for ancient magic? A lot! And this isn’t just ancient magic! This is _pre_ -ancient magic! Ancient-ancient magic! Marwell, Marwell, Marwell. We. Are. Going. To. Be. Rich! I mean, _seriously_ rich. Like, I can buy my own villa and have a harem of hunky guys just to rub my feet rich!

Marwell smiled at her enthusiasm.

Alyssa grinned impishly. “So are you going to come with us, this time?”

“No, no, I’m quite content with my standard finder’s fee. I’ll stay here, safe, and continue my research.”

“Safe because adventurers such as myself _keep_ you safe,” Alyssa pointed out.

Marwell gave her a broad smile, as if she was a particularly apt pupil.

“Exactly!”


End file.
